An Examined Life

Tag: space
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“Don’t you feel that there is such a lot of chatter going on all the time?”
“Like you are surrounded by a bunch of chatty folks all the time?”
“No, it isn’t just that.”

Talk is easy, quick and cheap
You can talk through the day until the sun sets, and then all night long.
Start the chatter and careless banter as day breaks,
Then there is TV and talk radio, interviews and people holding forth endless opinions,
And the grocery store and yoga studio, salon and gym.

It is on Facebook and Instagram, Twitter and Tumblr,
We all have something to say, our voices count, our opinions matter.

Even when the voices have died down, the talk continues.

Unceasing, relentless, changing and evolving, yes.

“Let me speak, I have been silent so long
I want to share too, I have been quiet for years,
I would like for someone to hear me too.”

There’s a world that beckons inward,
A space of quiet, non-threatening, plain and clean

I started going there as a child, I think?
I felt non-judged, felt like myself
(Whatever “myself” meant at that point in space and time)

I thought everyone had this kinda place
Surely, everyone needed it?

It took me a while before I got it:
That space was my own, my gift, a place I crafted for myself, maybe before I was even born
For refuge, for respite, a place to sleep and dream and let the tears flow

I still go there
every day
It is my own

And I like its neutrality

As a child, I felt it welcoming
Now I appreciate neutrality even more

Walls are pale grey-blue
Air flows in and out
There are windows, but none really
I feel the sun, the light and warmth

I have always associated grace and beauty with a contained space. Expanding my body in Tai Chi, I thought, would make me look ungainly, awkward. Plus, I have nearly always been told that I am a petite, slender person, so it naturally follows that a person like me would take up less space, literally.

I am not a petite person. I take up a decent amount of space. But the truth may be that I internalized the petite-slender narrative well enough to begin taking up less space, literally. Perhaps, I shrank a little. Thankfully, I didn’t develop the habit of slouching or hollowing my chest or hunching the shoulders.

One day, I dumped the graceful walk. Placed my legs wider apart, dropped the shoulders, spread the arms out a bit. It felt good, freeing. I wasn’t swaggering or posturing; it simply felt like I was taking my rightful place, the actual volume of air-space occupied by my body.

I am sure there are all kinds of metaphors hidden (or not) in here, but I am going to leave it at that.